The crinkled white Egyptian cotton sheets are the only bit of evidence he’d been there at all. He was a good sleeping companion. Quiet and true to his word – he didn’t try anything with me. I stretch leisurely and take my time rolling from the bed. In the opulent bathroom, I debate taking a shower – I’m dying to use the luxurious steam shower with its six shower heads, but decide instead to make it brief in case Drake is expecting me downstairs. After smoothing my hair down in the mirror, I wander downstairs in search of coffee. The house is completely silent. As I pass by room after room on my way to kitchen, it feels like I’m walking through a museum. Drake is sitting at the breakfast bar, leaning over his iPad with a cup of steaming espresso sitting nearby. "Morning," I say. His gaze lifts up to meet mine, his mouth tugged down in a frown. I feel like I’m interrupting him.
What do You think about Filthy Beautiful Lies (Filthy Beautiful Lies #1)?
